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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704684">A Welcome Reunion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexisCyra/pseuds/AlexisCyra'>AlexisCyra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Destiny (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Just let them kiss Bungie, Yearning</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:08:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,622</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26704684</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexisCyra/pseuds/AlexisCyra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Pyramids loom overhead, and the Guardians struggle to see a future in which light stands victorious in the face of overwhelming darkness, Ikora takes a moment to slip away from Vanguard duties. Upon Eris' return from the tree on Io, the Hunter had put in a mysterious request and Ikora's curiosity drives her to visit her old friend in the City. With such crushing dread plaguing Ikora's mind, it will be good to finally enjoy a much needed reunion. Featuring lots of gay yearning and far too much pineapple symbolism.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eris Morn/Ikora Rey</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Welcome Reunion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ikora had long questioned Eris Morn’s curious requisition of a fertile land patch upon her return to the tower. Despite scarce resources of such usually reserved for the farmers within the city walls, few would argue with a Vanguard request. Ikora had made certain to put in a good word with The Consensus to see it sent through.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The familiar neon glow of signage adorning the side of the Drunken Noodle bathed the foot of Ikora’s robes. The chatter and laughter of its patrons continued uninterrupted as the Warlock slipped through the darkened city street undetected. The hours ticked by, summoning forth the inevitable nightly curfew. Ikora could spot the gleam of a Titan’s chestplate flickering under streetlight as Guardians began their patrols. It was a thankless job; Ikora had seen the reports that crossed Zavala’s desk of civil disturbances and protests. But with their ancient enemy at the door once more, what choice did they have? To falsely propagandize as Dead Orbit so often did? Maintain full freedom and run the risk of further casualties as they still licked the wounds of the Red War?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A brewing storm of rampant thoughts clouded her vision for a moment. She stopped, her tired eyes turning their sights up toward the Traveler that forever hung suspended atop the city. She seeked clarity, answers, hope… despite an understanding that her wishes would fall on deaf ears. In dire straits such as this, asking for a miracle seemed an ironically rational decision. As the Warlock Vanguard, it often fell on her to provide such phenomena and the weight of that responsibility was crushing in isolation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You do not need to lurk, Ikora. I may be focused on my work but hardly so engrossed as to not feel the presence of another in my small abode.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eris’ gentle yet commanding voice tore a void in the poisonous well of contemplation and Ikora could feel the tension in her shoulders instantaneously dissolve.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My apologies, Eris. I find myself a little lost in thought with everything these days.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So you come to seek my audience?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ikora’s mouth opened to summon a response but found herself hesitant to admit her desperation for Eris’ company. A small laugh reverberated in Eris’ throat to fill the silence.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Truly, Ikora, I am flattered. Though you know far better than anybody that I am not the social butterfly best suited to provide comfort.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Trust me, your presence alone is enough to soothe the headache that’s been ringing in my ears all day.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Deeper, unspoken feelings danced across Ikora’s lips. Repressed as they continued to be, they still fought to burst from her heart at every given opportunity much to her dismay. The two women had long shared a bond - one that had bloomed into a warm if not complicated friendship despite the extraordinary circumstances the two often found themselves in. It was rare for Ikora to enjoy the honey sweet inflections of Eris’ voice untainted by the static of radio conversations. Despite their continued correspondence and reliance on one another through trials and tribulations, Ikora still feared to confess to the fire the Hunter lit in her soul. And thus repression appeared the only correct course of action. She had, after all, developed a talent for it as she transitioned from famed Crucible competitor to the calm and rational actor of the Vanguard she was known to be today.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So when did the great Eris Morn find herself developing a knack for farming?” Ikora asked, taking stance just beside Eris and leaning in to watch her hands go to work on the soil.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Cayde always did encourage me to get a hobby. Perhaps I am merely following that fool’s advice finally.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ikora felt a sweeping darkness wash across her features. The pang of loss still felt as fresh as the day he died whenever his name was ushered into quiet conversation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...At least in this case, it seems he may have been right. There is something therapeutic about my time away from the Pyramids to be certain.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ikora wasn’t sure the last time she had heard a positive word from Eris about Cayde, and even the small compliment was enough to allow a small smile to creep back onto her face.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Cayde always did have a knack for stumbling onto the answer… in his own incredibly frustrating way. Always with the most terrible jokes he could muster. But it’s hard to argue with results.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I might have relished in the results far more if they hadn’t required my ship to be cast into oblivion at his behest.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another pause welled in the space between the two. Eris ran her fingers across the soil and smoothed its surface until evidence of her excavations were entirely masked. She turned to get up, momentarily taken aback as she brushed up against Ikora’s outstretched hand. Her luminescent eyes flickered with an air of curiosity; one that was quickly replaced by one of gratitude when her mouth curled upward and she accepted the Warlock’s aid. Once back on two feet, her focus shifted to a number of open crates resting toward the back of the small allotment. Spiked leaves jutted out from the canopy of the containers to leave an irregular shadow against the back wall.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your irregular breathing suggests to me that reminiscing on lost friends is hardly the conversation you had hoped for when coming here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ikora’s eyes widened, a faint crimson blush betraying her immediate embarrassment. Her heart throbbed against her ribcage as if seeking escape, to leap toward she who it yearned for. Her feet were stayed against the cobblestones but Ikora’s ability to restrain her mind was waning as it found itself invaded by a myriad of pleads. How easy it would have been for her to maintain her hold on Eris’ offered hand. To have held it high and pressed her pursed lips against its surface. To pull her old friend in close and prove to her that the lies she believed - that she was a monster, corrupted and unworthy of the light - could not tread water. To let Solar warmth trickle across their interlaced fingers. To hold Eris’ cheek and…</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ikora clenched her first.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She moved swiftly down the path to catch up to Eris.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She was pulling one of the mysterious objects from the crate as Ikora arrived and the Warlock couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the oddly sculpted form it took.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“What is that?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A pineapple, according to recipes and records. I had deduced that it translated to a pine-flavored apple but it seems those early conclusions were to be incorrect. If not for a curious Guardian who would often visit my camp under the tree, I would never have realised they were more than myth. A few still thrived in the Arcology on Titan.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It barely looks edible with a surface as thorned as that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought that too, but it turns out the inside is surprisingly ripe and sweet despite its far less welcoming exterior.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I can see why you’ve taken such an affinity to it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Regret immediately slammed against Ikora the moment the words left her mouth. Eris turned, her masked eyes contemplating Ikora’s intentions before the Hunter gave a quiet, curious grunt.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps, yes. There is something fascinating about the simple act of watching a fruit grow and flourish. Titan’s original agriculturalists seem to have imbued the seeds the Guardian found in the Arcology vault with certain… desirable attributes for quick growth. I am certain that the original process must have taken months but each day I am able to return here and see new leaves borne from the soil.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was such a soft passion to Eris’ words, the two looking out onto the patch as the silver of the moonlight began its pass overhead. Ikora’s smile grew. Eris always looked so beautiful painted in the colors of the clearest night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Many old Warlock scriptures often talk about the symbolism of nature and its cycles. The perseverance of flora to bloom in even the most brutal of environments, time and time again, to fill the world with beauty and joy. Many lessons we can learn as Guardians can be found in the earth around us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There is always a line, Ikora. An environment too harsh and most crops will be snuffed out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Then we’d best make sure to embody the hardiest if we’re to have a chance of keeping the systems in balance in the face of an unyielding force.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eris pondered upon the pineapple currently nestled within her arms.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She turned to Ikora once again. It was often difficult for the Warlock to read into her expressions, but there was a radiance to Eris’ features in that moment.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“As it so happens, I am on the verge of completing a recipe that demanded the pineapple. However, my affliction leaves me in a challenging state of affairs when it comes to checking my inexperienced cooking abilities are not...entirely horrendous. I would be most grateful to have a friend to share a meal with. One with a palate less scarred by the Hive.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ikora had to resist a burning temptation to scream, imprisoning the urge in her throat as her head descended into a flurry of vivid machinations. There was no denying that Eris often had difficulty admitting to her need for companionship, terrified of its consequences ever since the loss of her fireteam so long ago. But there was little she could do to hide the pleading tone in which her request took shape. It would seem Ikora was not the only to be suffering from the isolation in a forever darkening world.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I would like that very much, Eris.”</span>
</p>
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